The King and His Queen
by wonderwoundedhearers
Summary: Aro and Isabella have been mates for over one-hundred years, when a battle for power drives them apart. Both think the other dead - what will it take for them to find each other? It is five-hundred years later that Aro is told a devastating truth... Th/s.
1. Life

_**Author's note**_:This fic may seem a little confusing at first, but don't worry, I promise I'll keep it simple-ish. Basically, Aro and Bella are already mates – since 1410 – and the battle against the Romanians sees Bella lost. The only difference in the characters in this fic, is that Bella is –obviously – much older and a vampire. So, there will be no mention of her family – like Charlie – etc. She's an old and powerful Volturi. Hope you enjoy the twisted ramblings of my mind!

* * *

It was exactly five-hundred years ago that the King lost his Queen, and since then he had very nearly gone insane with power in his agony.

What was a man to do when he had the world, but not his love to share it with?

The King sat in his throne day after day, wondering whether his kingdom would suffer without his presence – he could quite easily order his guards to destroy him, and then he would join his long lost love in whatever afterlife immortals had.

The King's ruler-straight, obsidian-black hair had long lost the lustre that his love would often wonder at – as it used to gleam sapphire and emerald, like the sheen of a raven's wing. His crimson eyes, that used to spark and glow with passion and love, were constantly darkened – no matter how often he sated his thirst with the blood of humans, they would stay gloomy and shadowed. The King's skin, which used to look so flawless, perfect and glowing, was now papery and made him look frail.

The King had often wondered what his brother went through when _his_ mate was destroyed, and it wasn't long until he found out – for it had been less than a year after Didyme's final death at the hands of the Romanians, that the King's precious Isabella had been lost to them as well.

The King cursed his desire for power, for that had been his downfall. The three Kings had waged war against the Lords of their world – they had won, but the personal cost had been great.

Without his permission, his mind began replaying the night he lost his wife, his mate, his Queen.

_**The year 1510…**_

"_Isabella," Aro whispered, his fingers dancing over her elegant shoulders__._

_Isabella turned from her mirror, where she was brushing out her long soft mahogany locks, and watched her husband with sparkling crimson eyes as he moved towards her._

_Aro smirked as Isabella dropped her comb to the floor with a clatter, and then he launched himself at her. They landed on the large, soft bed with a muted thud, and Isabella laughed breathlessly – it was one of Aro's favourite sounds._

_The dress his love was wearing suited her very well, and he thought that she had never looked more radiant than she did tonight. The dark crimson silk of the gown matched her eyes, and instead of moving with the fashion, Isabella had taken to designing her own clothing – so, the sleeves were not puffed, but instead were long, fitted and practical as well as flattering. From what Aro's sharp eyes could determine, she was not wearing a chemise either and he smirked at his wife's antics._

"_Isabella, do you not think that you should wear a chemise beneath that exquisite gown?" He asked, his eyes glinting with possessiveness – he wanted no other to look upon his beautiful mate._

_Isabella smiled, her fingers stroking his cheek, "Not tonight, my love. Tonight, I need to be able to move with ease."_

_Aro sighed, resigned, "You still insist on fighting?"_

"_I shall not fight, Aro – for your sake – but I refuse to not be there and use my gift."_

_Her soft lips caressed his jaw, and Aro could not help the moan that escaped him._

_Isabella laughed softly, "Not now, my love – there is not long until it begins."_

_Aro nodded, pulling Isabella's back against his chest and wrapping his arms around her. His lips automatically sought out her neck, and he nuzzled the skin there, enjoying how his scent lingered there already. If he could not stop Isabella from being at the battle, then at least he could cover her in his scent – if anyone should even try to attack her, they would know the wrath that would be brought down upon them by such an action. Any attackers would know that she was his. Aro knew that this could work in another way as well, as marking Isabella as his mate could make her a target tonight, but he was confident that he would not be crossed._

_They lay quietly, enjoying the peace and stillness in the castle. The guard had been allowed the day to be with their mates before the battle – on Isabella's order – and everyone was simply enjoying being together._

_Aro knew it was almost time__ for them to leave, and he knew that within the hour they would be standing before the castle that housed their enemies. Stefan and Vladimir's ruling coven had been weak for a long time and Aro was confident of his victory in the battle tonight._

_Isabella turned in Aro's arms and kissed his lips softly, "Come, my love – tonight, we avenge our sister and become what you have always dreamed of."_

_Aro smiled at Isabella's words – she was truly magnificent._

"_I love you," he breathed, his lips brushing hers._

"_And I love you," she replied, kissing him with abandon._

_Aro's hands fisted his love's hair and held her warm body to his – his kiss was telling her how much he loved her, and it was reminiscent of a kiss goodbye._

_Isabella pulled away after a moment, and stood, "Do not kiss me like that, Aro."_

_She picked up her fallen comb and ran it through her hair again._

_Aro frowned, standing and moving towards her, "My darling?"_

_Isabella turned from the mirror after she had pinned most of her hair up, leaving a single curl to fall down her swan-like neck._

"_Do not kiss me like that, Aro. We will be successful, and we will be together – there is no need for a kiss like that." Isabella smirked, moving to Aro and pressing her body against his, "Come to me later to claim what is yours, and do not think that anything will happen to stop it."_

_Aro nodded and smiled, kissing her one last time, "Forgive me, Dearest."_

"_Always," Isabella breathed. "Now, go – you are needed."_

_Aro embraced his love one last time, taking in her appearance and savouring her sweet scent. They would see each other on the battlefield soon enough, and Aro was proud of Isabella's fierce and loving nature._

_He backed out of the room as Isabella blew him a kiss and turned to lace her boots._

_Aro could not wait to grasp the power he wanted, nor could he wait to celebrate their achievements when the battle was done – he would find his Isabella, and they would live as he had dreamed of._

_**The year 2010…**_

A voice brought Aro out of his reverie, "Master?"

He looked up to see Jane, his favourite, standing before him, "Yes, Jane?"

"Carlisle Cullen and his coven have arrived for Mistress's remembrance ball," she bowed her blonde head and left.

Aro smiled slightly, glad that his old friend would visit him soon – he missed Carlisle, and he often brightened the castle with his presence. He was also glad that Jane still thought of Isabella as her mistress – many of the Volturi missed her daily, and Jane was no exception. Isabella had touched the hearts of everyone.

It was the 500th ball this year, and it was always held in Isabella's honour. But this year, Aro felt a new sadness envelop him – he did not know what it was, but he realised that he could not go on alone and bereft much longer. Five-hundred years had been hard enough, and Aro knew it would continue to get harder – he knew Marcus had been thinking the same thing as him.

Aro sighed, speaking to the angel he imagined looking down on him from heaven, "Perhaps you will see me soon, my love."

* * *

_Breathe, breathe, breathe…_

_Drip, drip, drip…_

_Knock, knock, knock…_

That was a new one.

She did not know how long she had existed as such, but she knew that the knocking had started a few hours ago… That was if she correctly remembered how to count hours.

She sat huddled in the darkest corner of her rank, stone cell – there were no windows, no door, just walls. It was a prison built to hold her kind – it could not contain a vampire's strength, but it could contort their mind.

It felt like an eternity ago she was thrown in here.

After the great battle, she had been separated from her love and she had waited in the shadows of the forest for Aro to find her. She had promised him not to engage anyone in combat, and she kept her promises.

She had not waited long before she thought she heard her husband's whispering footsteps – but it was another Ancient altogether…

_**The night of the battle…**_

_The dark forest that bordered the castle of Stefan and Vladimir was intimidating to her – she had never liked the dark ever since her change__, where she had not been able to escape the flames in that all-encompassing blackness._

_But she had promised Aro – that was all that mattered. She just had to keep herself safe._

_She was as silent and invisible as a jungle cat, as she slunk from tree to tree, and from branch to branch trying to glimpse her love._

_Suddenly there was the sound of gentle, soft footsteps that she had only ever known Aro and their brothers to use._

_She dropped from the tree to be assaulted by a foreign scent, but it was too late._

_A pair of hands held her to a hard, unyielding body, and she could feel their teeth against her neck as a warning not to move._

_A man stepped forward out of the brush, "How lovely to meet you."_

_His Italian was __rusty and ill-used, and she knew from the way he moved that he was an Ancient – just like her love._

_His eyes glinted maliciously__ as he stood toe-to-toe with her, "My name is Vladimir."_

_Her__ heart froze as she realised the terrible, terrible danger she now found herself in._

"_What do you want with me?" She managed to ask._

_Vladimir smiled wickedly, flicking his long, w__avy, brown hair from his eyes. His fingers reached out and brushed her collarbone – her skin crawled and she prepared to run, or fight if needs be._

_The one holding her to him caught her tensing muscles, and his teeth sank into her neck as he covered her mouth with his hand. Her scream went unheard and she felt the stranger's venom weakening her._

"_You are to stay with us, my dear – your coven has fallen and your mate is dead. We will take you as the spoils of war," he breathed against her ear. "Such a lovely, young thing – you shall be our entertainment…"_

_Subduing her with venom, she was dragged away through the forest and into some kind of cave.__ It led to dirt and stone tunnels, and finally they reached a large door._

_Vladimir turned to her, "If you do not fight, you will not be harmed."_

_She thought that it was unlikely for that to be true, but the vampire behind her still had his teeth to her throat and she could not fight his ultimate strength.__ A part of her did not want to fight anyway – what was the point of fighting when all that she cared for was dead and destroyed?_

_Her heart ached violently, threatening to shatter – she would not allow it though, not when she did not have proof of Aro's demise._

_Suddenly she was pushed through the door and then pushed again – she fell and fell, until she hit cold, hard stone. She looked up to see a small hole in a stone-clad ceiling, and Vladimir was smiling at her through it._

"_This is your new room, my dear. Remember – do not fight, and you will not be harmed," with that, something covered the hole with a grating of metal and the room was covered in darkness._

_It was cavernous – stone squares lined every inch of it, and she wondered why they had kept her here unwatched when she could easily break out using her immortal strength._

_She did not ponder long, for she was soon shown her new purpose quite clearly…_

_**Present time…**_

She thought – with the ultimate detachment she had practiced over the years – about how she would be approached by many vampires and subdued with their venomous bites. They would do what they liked with her, always ending in carnal union, and then they would leave.

Vladimir had often 'visited' her, but when they did not feed her and she grew frail, he was disgusted by her. She had not been fed since the night before the battle, and as her immortal strength waned, she retreated inside her mind.

She had no reason to leave now – she was horribly scarred, both inside and outside, and she knew that her dearest husband must, indeed, be dead. He would never have let her go on as such if he was alive. She had wept and wept, but that had made Vladimir angry – so, now she mourned inside her mind.

Her mental shield had been what drew Aro to her in the first place, before they fell in love, and now she used it to keep her mind elsewhere while her body was used and abused.

The years had passed slowly…or quickly – she couldn't tell what time _was_ anymore. She only knew that three immortals would come to her twice while the sun was up and once while the sun was down – she only knew that because of the sounds and smells outside of the hole when it opened.

She tried not to think about the first time they had ripped her apart so they could see how long it would take her to put herself back together, but she thought of in nonetheless. It had taken her so long, _too_ long, but she still could not tell just _how_ long.

She rocked herself back and forth in the corner of her prison – naked, marked, bitten, dirty… She wanted to die, to join Aro, but she did not have the power to. She was so weak.

It was then that the knocking started – she did not know who it was, but the guards had not arrived for her usual torture and rape. She absently wondered whether she was insane – she certainly felt like she was.

When the metal cover over the hole suddenly slid back, she didn't even flinch – she just kept staring at the opposite wall, relaxing her muscles so that it just didn't hurt that much when they finally took her.

After a few moments, nothing had happened and she forced her eyes to look up. There was a shaft of dim light coming through the hole, and she could have sworn in that moment that an angel was looking down on her.

_Heaven… Take me to Aro…_

* * *

_**Author's note**_: Hmm, well… Personally, I like it – but then I really didn't expect to be publishing this story so soon, if at all, so it might be a little rough around the edges or hard to understand. All reviews welcome and appreciated.


	2. Hope

It was finally midnight, and the ball was well underway – it was time for Aro to make his speech to the gathered covens.

He took measured steps to the edge of the balcony, on which he and his brothers stood to overlook the festivities. The grand hall was adorned with golden banners and ribbons floating from the vaulted ceiling like falling stars, and couples twirled below them – spinning flashes of gold and red, with the sparkle of diamonds…

It was all so beautiful, and he knew that Isabella would have adored it all – except for the dancing.

Aro's lips turned up in a wry smile – his Isabella had always hated dancing, yet whenever he would offer her his hand, she would take it eagerly.

Aro finally reached the marble balustrade, "Friends!"

The festivities slowed, and all looked up at him with their utmost attention.

"Tonight is the night where we remember our lost Queens – Didyme and Isabella. Many of you have never seen them, beyond the paintings we display, but there are some among you who have known them and have loved them."

The hall was filled with murmurs of agreement and many were listening with rapt attention, as they always did when anyone spoke of the Queens.

Aro sighed, "This is our five-hundredth year without them, and tonight I wish all of you to think of them as you enjoy what they no longer can."

Just as Aro was about to turn away, a voice rang out in the hall – it echoed and reverberated, and Aro was sure that the acoustics distorted the words said.

Aro turned back, fire in his eyes and face, "Speak again!"

The crowd beneath him parted, and a cloaked figure moved into the clearing.

"I said, your words are true but they still have the chance to enjoy such things," the person spoke in a deep voice, and Aro flicked his gaze to Felix, who was standing near-by.

Felix moved forward and pulled away the cloak, to reveal an ancient-looking man. His hair was grey and his eyes were black – he looked wizened and hungry. His clothes were barely being held together by the stitches that remained, and yet he looked as if he deserved respect and loyalty.

"Who are you?" Aro asked – disgruntled by the fact he had never seen this immortal in all his long years.

"My name is Icarus, and I have long been a prisoner of Stefan and Vladimir," he said, his words sounding with the ring of truth.

Without a second thought, Aro dropped from the balcony and landed silently and gracefully before the old man.

Aro held out his hand, "Let me _see_ if you speak the truth."

Icarus pulled his hands away and stepped back, "I do not trust – I have not for over one-hundred years."

"Then how can _I_ trust what you are telling me?" Aro asked, tipping his head inquisitively, "Whatever it _is_ that you are telling me."

Icarus's dark eyes flashed, "I am telling you that your Queens are not dead."

There was utter silence, and Marcus appeared at Aro's side, looking as deadly and angry as Aro himself.

"You lie," Marcus hissed. "They have been dead for centuries."

Icarus looked at the brother, "Technically they _are_ dead, but they still _exist_."

Aro's head was pounding with an imaginary blood-flow – his beloved was alive?

"Tell us," Aro ordered firmly, and Icarus bowed his head – it seemed the man knew who was in charge, no matter where he had been.

"I was captured by Vladimir one-hundred years ago – tortured into giving information on the gifted in my coven. They were taken from me and destroyed as Stefan took over our land, but one escaped and they thought that I knew where to. I see that I have now found that place," he smiled slightly, his eyes wandering to Demetri who was looking at him with awe and respect.

Aro sensed the conversation was quickly becoming private, and he snapped his fingers – everyone disappeared immediately.

Icarus continued, without delay, "It was only recently that they grew sloppy, over-confident – I managed to escape my ever-present guards. But when I heard a noise, it halted my escape. It was the noise of a woman…"

Icarus's face grew pained, as he breathed, "There were only two others like me in that place – it was designed to hold us, but my torture did not…weaken me, mentally or physically. Her torture did."

He stared at Aro, who was slowly filling with dread – his Isabella could not be being tortured as such…if she were alive he would know it, and he would never allow her to come to so much harm. But if the man spoke the truth about the person Aro thought he was, then he had done just that – he had failed his only love.

"She is brave, my King," Icarus whispered. "She takes their disgusting punishment, for she believes all hope is lost – she has done so for five-hundred years. Before I escaped, I heard the story from her punisher – Vladimir himself…"

Aro swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat, "You speak of Isabella?"

Icarus paused, and then nodded slowly, "She is the one that is locked in the darkest cell, who has been physically subdued with venom and mentally with cruel words and lies. I could get nowhere near her – Didyme, however, I was able to rescue."

Aro heard Marcus gasp as a woman floated towards them from being one of the tall marble pillars.

"My love," she sighed brokenly, and Marcus took her in his arms with a pained howl.

But Aro could not greet his venom-sister, for Icarus was still staring at him and he knew that if both of them looked thus – with their rags and their frail state – Isabella must look and be much, much worse.

His eyes glazed over with venom as he asked, "You could not rescue her?"

Icarus looked terribly pained again, and regret was etched all over his face, "I could not. It seems that Vladimir has taken out his rage of being defeated by you, on your mate. She was too weak for me to rescue, and there were many guards surrounding her cell. In my state, I could only save Didyme – her cell was guarded by only one immortal."

Didyme spoke up then, "I am not very strong. They told me that all I knew was dead, and when I had not been rescued after so long, I found that I believed them. The guards were kind to me – it seems I did not receive the same…_treatment _as Isabella. I did not know she was there – I swear it, Aro. I would have helped if I knew – I was fed and kept healthy, I was not weakened more than necessary."

Aro smiled weakly at his venom-sister, "I am glad of your safety, Dear One."

He took in her appearance – dishevelled, pale, wearied; he could only hope that Isabella looked the same and not worse.

"They did not know who my mate was, Aro," Didyme breathed. "But I think they knew who Isabella belonged to…"

Icarus nodded, "I overheard Vladimir – he taunts her with the false news of your death, _before_…"

Suddenly, Aro howled in rage and pain.

He turned to Marcus, and snarled, "Assemble the Guard, and send out an immediate rescue party – any of the larger covens! It is time we did what should have been done five-hundred years ago!"

The night of the battle Aro had found a pile of ashes that held Isabella's scent and he had wept for his dead wife, but it would soon be Vladimir and Stefan that were blown away on the wind and no one would weep for them.

* * *

The angel did not move again, and Isabella found herself staring at the beautiful face – it seemed…familiar?

"Who are you?" It asked, the sound echoing in her dank cell.

Isabella flinched, moving away from the light, from the noise, from the outside world – there was nothing left out there for her now, with Aro gone.

Before she knew it, the angel had dropped through the hole and was standing and sparkling in the weak light. Isabella did not sparkle anymore from her terribly weakened state – it just proved to herself that she had fallen from grace.

The angel came closer, and Isabella let out a weak hiss of warning – she had no strength, only hope that the angel would not harm her.

"Who are you?" It asked again, and she could distinguish the angel's features now – it was a he, and he was a gloriously beautiful immortal.

"But not as glorious as my Aro," Isabella whispered, her voice sure and steady but rasping.

The angel watched her closely, but not straying from her face – his eyes were an odd colour, and they glowed with a golden shine. He was definitely an angel – in odd clothes…

Time had passed, and Isabella had no idea what the fashion was on the outside world – but, she thought wryly, she never had any time for fashion anyway. She would train herself for defence and love – it was all she was interested in; to protect her family and herself, and to give her Aro the pleasure he deserved. Isabella always was a passionate creature.

The angel's blonde hair glinted in the sunlight, and his defined features were pleasing – his light clothes, though strange, suited the masculine air he held.

Suddenly, he was not alone.

Another immortal, with gold eyes and bronze hair, dropped down next to him. He was wearing a dark version of the angel's clothes, and he was very beautiful, too.

But Isabella saw none of that in that moment – she saw two male vampires extremely close to her person.

She hissed pathetically, sliding further away – she wasn't scared of receiving the treatment she had previously, but more scared of what she _could_ receive from the two unknown immortals. Isabella was more scared of the unknown than anything else.

"Who is she?" The dark angel asked, and the blonde angel turned towards him minutely.

"I don't know – can't you tell?"

He shook his head a fraction, "I can't read her at all."

_Gifted._

The word rang through her mind – the dark angel was gifted, but she was gifted as well, a shield, and she was immune to mental powers. She was glad that she could easily block him, even when so weakened as she was – Aro had always admired her impossibly strong gift. It seemed naturally engrained within her.

"She mentioned Aro," the blonde angel whispered, and the other angel drew in a breath.

"So, is this…?"

The blonde angel nodded, "I think so – he asked us to help find her, and find her we have. Look past the starvation and the grief – she looks just like her portrait, Edward."

Edward – this name rang a bell with her. It was her father's name.

Isabella was lucky to have kept her human memories, and for so long in her state of torture as well.

"Carlisle, I know Marcus said she would be damaged, but _this_ is…"

_Marcus_…

Images of her loving, caring, beautiful brother flashed before her eyes – it had been so long since she thought of him, or had heard his name uttered.

Isabella let out a soft, pained sob, "_My Marcus_…"

The two angels stared at her, and the blonde angel's jaw set as he muttered, "It's definitely her – there's no one else here, and her knowledge..."

The bronze-haired angel looked anxious, hopeful and…slightly afraid. He stepped closer, making Isabella hiss softly again. He held his hands out in peace, and knelt before her – his eyes were soft and sad.

"Are you Isabella?" He asked, and she stared at him for a moment – she wondered if this was part of her punishment somehow; a cruel, sick game devised by Vladimir.

Against her better judgement she looked him squarely in the eye, "Yes…"

Her voice quivered, but the two angels' faces lit up at her words – before she knew it, the blonde angel was holding something to his ear and speaking into it quickly.

Isabella couldn't catch all of his words, her body was too weak to use her heightened senses – she chose to look into the dark angel's soft eyes; they seemed even sadder, now.

Without a word, he slipped off his black jacket – it worried her for a moment, seeing him undress and when his hands came towards her, but he simply slipped the fabric over her pathetic and frail body, covering her gently.

The blonde angel had finished speaking into his…device, now, and he was scanning Isabella's body with calculating eyes – she huddled under the jacket, curling in her body to protect herself.

The two immortals were shocked, angered and disgusted, Isabella could see it now, and she hoped that maybe they would kill one of the Romanians in their heightened emotional state – maybe they already had.

A moment or so passed, and the blonde angel smiled kindly – but his words shattered Isabella's world – "Aro is coming."

* * *

_**Author's note**_: Time is a bit screwy in this fic – you have to imagine that there's been a few jumps backwards and forwards in time while I'm writing the POVs. I hope it's not too confusing – let's just say Aro's POV is a little more in the past, and Isabella's is the present.


	3. Love

It was not long before Aro was on an aeroplane to Romania – he twitched in his seat constantly, frustrated with his inability to do anything but wait.

His beloved was _alive_ – his wife, his mate…she was _alive_.

The Romanians would pay for their treachery with their lives, and Aro would have the honour of killing Vladimir himself.

The Cullens had reported their find, along with their success in subduing the twenty Romanians that lingered on the outskirts of their castle, in a complex system of tunnels, vaults and caves – they had gone underground for so long, just living for the sake of torturing and recruiting new immortals.

They were weak, as leaders and as men – Aro would destroy his enemy, and then see to his wife. He had spent five-hundred years wallowing in misery, he could wallow a few moments longer to destroy Vladimir before seeing his Isabella.

He had no idea what he would find either – everything was so…distorted, and complex. He wished he had not been so consumed by grief on the night of the battle, and maybe he could have discovered the Romanians' secret hide-out and saved his wife from a fate worse than death…

Caius' hand suddenly grasped Aro's, and Aro turned to look into his youngest brother's eyes.

"Aro, Isabella is safe now, and we will _personally_ deliver justice to the scum – think of how it will feel to have her in your arms again, and nothing else," he said softly, in a tender way that had always been reserved for his wife, Athenodora, and his sister, Aro's Isabella.

Aro nodded and sat back in his seat as he closed his eyes – he let past memories of their love dance before his eyes, and he hoped that it would be as shining and brilliant as it ever was.

* * *

The dark angel, Edward, stayed with Isabella in her torture chamber, while the other angel left through the hole – she could vaguely hear voices now, but due to her lack of nutrition she could not hear the words and their tones were only dimly registering to her.

She felt like a pitiful excuse for an immortal.

Questions ran through her mind – like what the blonde angel, Carlisle, meant about her Aro and how they were even here. Was the vicinity not guarded by tens of immortals? How had they gotten through them? What would they do with her? How had the world changed?

So many questions and no answers.

Edward watched her cautiously for a while, focusing intently on her eyes, before asking, "Do you have a gift?"

Isabella felt like lying, but it was not in her nature – even now, while she was broken, she was willing to hold onto her morals and trust.

She nodded weakly, and he smiled.

"What is it?" He asked, and Isabella buried her face in her lacklustre hair.

"I am a shield," she murmured.

He looked confused when she peeked out from her brown locks.

"I can block others' gifts," she explained softly, meekly.

Isabella was ashamed of how fragile she had become and how small she sounded – she was always proud to be strong and loving and passionate, but now she felt no better than a mouse.

The dark angel did not press any more, and he seemed to be listening to something – he turned his head towards Isabella quickly after a moment.

"He's coming," Edward murmured. "Aro."

"But Aro is dead," she whispered, clutching at her dead heart beneath the jacket that lay over her. "_My Aro is dead_…"

Edward shook his head, "You were lied to, Isabella. The night you were captured, the Volturi won the battle – you were beaten into submission with lies. You were taken to…release anger on, because you are Aro's mate. Your Aro is alive and well, and he is coming with all the fury that Hell has to offer."

That was when Isabella heard it, that fluttering noise – it was a buzz, a hum, which surrounded her and Aro. She had thought it lost, for he had died, and mourned the sweet noise that used to lull her into an easy peace in his arms at night – she had missed that sound.

Isabella knew then, that every word the dark angel had spoken was true – Aro was _here_.

With the last vestiges of her poor strength, she sucked in a deep breath and screamed for her love, "_ARO_!"

* * *

The aeroplane had landed, and in the bright Romanian morning the gathered Volturi Guard drove on to '_la Castel Negru_' – the Black Castle, where the Romanians had fought and been vanquished so many years ago.

Aro thought, as they drew closer, that today would be the day that their battle would finally end once and for all.

Clouds drew in above their heads, as they drove up the long deserted road to the castle – the sky turned grey, then black, and silver droplets began to fall from the heavens. The castle loomed before them, on a steep incline – its turrets were blackened and its grey stone walls were crumbling from the fire that was set on the night of the battle. It seemed the humans were clever enough to realise that they needed to stay away from the place, as the surrounding forests were empty of human life, and even animals seemed to flee from the castle's aura.

Aro's mind flashed through memories of the fighting that had commenced of those very battlements, and how purple smoke rose from thousands of points around the grounds and inside the castle's very walls.

The rain beat down on the line of cars that ascended up the road, entering through the castle's tall wooden doors that stood open like a grim welcome. Past the doors and the outer wall was the main courtyard, and the cars circled and stopped until all were inside – Aro stepped out of the car he had ridden in with his brother, not caring for the water that fell down on him, saturating his hair and suit and running down his face.

Aro listened, disregarding the sound of thunder that was about to roll in and picking out the soft and harsh tones of nearby voices – he immediately recognised his old friend's voice, Carlisle. He sounded uncharacteristically unforgiving – Carlisle's usual soft voice and pleasant manner seemed like a distant memory, compared to this growling tone that met Aro's ears.

He followed Carlisle's voice towards the open main door to the castle – he heard the Guard following him, but Aro was more preoccupied with listening to whoever else was with Carlisle.

There were three female voices, and two other male voices – Aro recognised the arguing tones of Alice, Esme and Rosalie Cullen…and a snarl ripped through him when he realised that they were all speaking to Stefan and Vladimir.

Aro flitted through the hall that welcomed him, down a long corridor, down two flights of stairs…until he met a door – it was a simple wooden door, something that indicated that this was where the servants would have passed through, and not that his worst enemies sat just beyond it.

The two Romanians seemed to be arguing a point, and Aro could not have cared less – but when he heard Isabella's name slip from Vladimir's lips, his rage took control of him.

The door did not survive – it shattered against the stone wall behind it as Aro threw it open.

The scene that met his eyes did not dull his worry for his wife – the three females stood over the large group of men that resided in the large stone-clad room, and they were growling and hissing at each of them with vicious expressions of fury. Aro could not think of any other reason why they would be so outraged at these men, whom they had never met – these were the men that had raped his wife, his Isabella.

One shuddering intake of breath was enough to confirm his thoughts – the room was laced with Isabella's scent. Aro's eyes darkened, his vision swimming red as he inhaled his beloved's scent – a part of him rejoiced in her smell as he had been bereft of it so long, but the rest of him roared in fury because it was not only her natural scent but the smell of her venom and of sex.

The unknown vampires in the room were heavily subdued, and as Jasper Cullen's scent invaded Aro's nostrils, he knew he was close by but standing silent.

Aro's eyes finally fell on Vladimir and Stefan – they were subdued like the rest, but not as heavily. They lay in a heap at Carlisle's feet as he hissed at them menacingly and warningly.

They were still talking, incoherently babbling on about something – Isabella's name was the only coherent word that they uttered.

Aro stalked towards them, his hair and clothes dripping with water as his movements shook it off – they looked up drowsily, their unfocused red eyes finding his and even in their stupor they realised what was coming for them.

As Aro neared their shaking forms, black rage rolling off of him, he smelt the most concentrated wave of Isabella's luscious strawberry and floral scent – it was coming from Vladimir.

"You are the guiltiest…" Aro managed to spit at him.

Vladimir seemed to impossibly pale, "I did _nothing_! I know _nothing_!"

Aro growled, making Carlisle step back and the three females stop their outraged hissing – the sound was full of power and fury, and it was a noise that they would remember until their final deaths.

Aro's hand shot out, clasping Vladimir's neck and squeezing until the flesh beneath his fingers cracked under the pressure – Vladimir gasped and flailed, unable to do anything against Aro's strength and Jasper's emotional spell.

Stefan tried to crawl away, but Aro's foot came down hard upon his sternum and pinned him to the stone floor.

"You stole my _mate_!" Aro roared, his lip curling back and baring his gleaming teeth to his enemies, "You staged her death and made me believe her dead, all so you could torture her for eternity for your own weaknesses and shortcomings! You are the very _worst _of men…"

Aro's voice was deadly-sounding and venom was rapidly pooling in his mouth – the two Romanian leaders quaked in fear, and Aro's inner-beast growled in satisfaction at their obvious cowardice. His beast quickly lost its patience, and Aro's hand and foot pressed more intently on his victims.

"_You will be sorry_," he promised, in a low hiss.

His patience snapped, and his vision grew dark – Aro felt almost detached; like he was watching another's hands rip the Romanians' limbs from their weakened bodies. His motions were rapid, his movements swift and deadly – he was naturally aggressive as a vampire, but he had been trained for war and dealing death.

Aro's ears were filled with their screams as his teeth tore into Vladimir's and Stefan's flesh, infecting them with his venom – their veins burned at the entry of the foreign substance, only used to their own venom. They screamed and writhed as their parts were detached and thrown towards the assembled Guard in the room.

Piece-by-piece they watched their bodies destroyed and burned on the spot – Caius was eagerly flexing his hands in anticipation of bringing death to the scum that surrounded them, as the purple smoke filled his nostrils.

As Aro looked into Vladimir's and Stefan's eyes, he gestured for Felix to bring forth the Volturi's most treasured and used contraption – the Glove of Andmani. The material it was made of was a fusion of different metals, and it was the strongest and most durable material that had ever been created – it was tough enough to survive the journey of being forced into a vampire's rock-hard skin. Once the middle and index fingers were inside the vampire's head, underneath their chin, a switch was activated and fire flew through their brain, killing them instantly and reducing them to mere ash.

Aro's beast calmed as he saw the destruction he had wreaked upon his enemies, and he had a clear enough mind to take the proffered metal gauntlet and slip it on his hand. The silver metal shone in the dim light that filtered through the windows of the room, and Aro admired his glowing black eyes in his reflection from the glove, savouring the moment before his wife's tormentors were brutally finished.

Vladimir's and Stefan's eyes were pleading, as they could not speak for Aro had crushed their necks – he took no notice, barely glancing at anyone or anything besides the glove he wore.

Aro closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and then whispering, "_Five-hundred years ago, this should have been done…_" He opened his eyes and glared down at the Romanians, "For your deceit and the torture of my mate, you are hereby given the sentence of death…_a final death_."

In one swift move, Aro had pierced the skin under Stefan's chin with his gloved fingers and activated the fire mechanism – Stefan's eyes burned pure black before his skull disintegrated, taking his face with it as blue sparks shot out of the glove. The flames used his venom as an accelerant, and in the next few seconds his body was eaten alive from the inside by fire.

Aro smiled darkly as Vladimir's eyes widened and shone with fear – he had destroyed Stefan first for this purpose, so Vladimir could see what would become of him. Vladimir looked down at the ashes of his brother, and at the plume of purple smoke winding its way upwards towards the ceiling, where it dissipated rapidly.

"That is what will become of you,_ Vladimir_," Aro growled, thrusting the glove underneath Vladimir's chin as he stared at the spot where the smoke had dissipated.

Aro smiled, waiting to pull the mechanism inside the glove – he wanted to see Vladimir suffer, to make him not know when his end would finally come.

But there was one deciding factor in the timing that Aro had not thought of.

"_ARO_!"

The voice was weak, broken, but he knew that voice – that sweet, beautiful voice that used to whisper softly in his ear as he cradled his love against him… It was the voice that once rang out joyfully in the halls of the castle he called home… It was the voice that he had first heard singing in a field six-hundred years ago, drawing him closer to the one woman that would steal his heart and hold it for all time…

"_Isabella_," Aro breathed, his head instinctively turning north where she had called out from.

A noise interrupted his thoughts, and he looked down to see Vladimir snarling at him – Aro roared in his face, sending the other immortal into a whirlwind of terror.

"Lucifer awaits you," Aro hissed, pulling the trigger inside he glove.

Sparks fired, lighting the venom inside Vladimir's head – he keened pitifully as he was burned from the inside out – as soon as his skull disintegrated, Aro passed the glove back to the waiting Felix.

Aro turned to Caius, whose eyes were black and was twitching with eagerness to rip apart those who had stolen and tortured his sister.

"Kill them all," Aro murmured, setting Caius loose on the unsuspecting Romanian vampires left in the room.

Without another word, Aro turned and ran straight through the stone wall – he burst out in a mass of rubble and dust into the pouring rain, and he ran. The castle's perimeter wall before him was nothing, and he leapt it with the easy grace that his years had given him – his unnecessary breathing became shallow and quick as he raced through the forest surrounding the castle, towards his Isabella.

As he flashed past tree after tree, hills loomed before him – that was when he saw the entrance to the place that his love had been held in all these long years. A crack in the meeting of two hills served as the entrance to a cave – Aro skidded through it, finding himself in a long dirt tunnel. He raced along it, taking in the scents of Carlisle, Edward and Emmett Cullen who had been the ones to subdue the guards outside Isabella's prison and find her. He followed their scents through a series of tunnels, trying to find his way to his mate.

The scents got stronger as he came to a purely stone tunnel – he turned a corner to see a chamber with a hole in the stone floor and metal cover lying beside it. Emmett Cullen stood behind it, his arms crossed in a show of strength and prowess – he had guarded Isabella in case their plan went awry.

Aro saw different tunnels leading away from the room in his peripheral vision, leading to chambers the same as the one in which he now stood – but Aro's concern was Isabella, and he did not even take a breath before dropping through the hole in the floor and into the room below him.

The first thing that assaulted him was the smell – the room reeked of many different immortals, venom, and sex…and his wife.

Aro's eyes landed on the frail, shaking creature to the side of the room, huddled under a suit jacket that should not cover her entire body but did – his dead heart broke as he looked upon the pale, thin face of Isabella.

Her hair lacked the brilliance it once had, and her skin had lost its luminosity, but she was still the most beautiful thing he had ever seen – Aro's fingers twitched in recognition of his mate, longing to just hold her to him.

Edward Cullen stood in front of Isabella, almost protectively, and Aro had to hold back a menacing growl – he was between him and his wife, but he did not want to alarm Isabella.

"_Go_," Aro hissed in his thoughts. "_Get Caius and bring him here, with something to cover my wife with._"

Edward nodded and left, leaping through the hole in the ceiling and taking off.

Aro turned back to his Isabella, noticing that she had not looked at him once – her eyes were closed, and she seemed to look so small…smaller than she actually was, like she was trying to disappear.

"_My love_…" Aro whispered brokenly, his knees shaking with the effort of holding him up in his grief.

Isabella's eyes fluttered open, and his gaze was met with the blackest he had ever seen – she had not been fed for five-hundred years, and it showed in those pained, dark orbs.

Her face twisted in sudden grief upon seeing his wet form, and her mouth parted as she let out a pained breath, "_Aro_…you are dead… My husband is dead…"

Aro shook his head, his wet, jet-black hair flying everywhere in his fervent gesture, "I live… _I _thought my wife was dead…you, my sweet Isabella…"

His voice broke as he stepped closer to her – Isabella cowered away from him slightly, and Aro's being was filled with immediate and physical pain.

"I will not harm you…" Aro breathed, venom stinging his eyes.

Isabella shook her head weakly, knocking it against the stone floor, "You never came… I was left…and…oh, _God_… Aro….what they did…"

She shook violently, and Aro came closer, kneeling in front of her small form, "Please, Isabella… Please, let me hold you. Let me love you, my wife, and forgive me…please forgive me… I was so easily fooled, and I have been lost without you…"

Isabella suddenly flung out her arm from underneath the suit jacket, and looked up at him with burning eyes, "What do you see? Look…"

Aro's gaze brushed along her arm, his heart splintering more with each inch of flesh he inspected – hundreds of bites covered her arm like an intricate, silvery spider's web.

"I am not good enough… I am broken… I… I have fallen… I do not…_shine_…" Isabella whispered, drawing her arm back and casting her gaze away.

"No," Aro whimpered, clasping her hand in his and stopping her from drawing away. "No, Isabella – my love, to me you shine like the most brilliant star and nothing on earth or in heaven could change that."

She looked at him with such pain and simply said, "I missed you."

Aro smiled slightly, but without humour, "I have missed you, too."

"And I love you…" Isabella breathed, "I have always loved you…and now, you are here…"

"I am here, my Isabella," Aro crooned softly, taking her face into his hands. "I will take you home."

"_Home_," she whispered. "I have longed to hear that word again, and even more to see my beloved Italia…" Her painfully thin fingers reached up and brushed Aro's cheekbone, sending shivers through his entire being, "But I have longed for nothing more than you, even as I thought you dead…"

Aro let out a pained sob, leaning down and pressing his forehead to hers, "Forgive me… Please, forgive me…"

"I forgive you," Isabella said almost silently, her eyes swimming with venom.

Aro looked down at her lips, wanting nothing more than to seal their reunion with a kiss, "I… Isabella?"

"No…" She breathed, "No… How… How can you still…_want_ me?"

Aro ran the tip of his nose along her cheek tenderly, "Since the first moment I heard you sing, I have wanted you – I will never stop. I promise, I will never fail you again."

With that, he pressed his lips to hers and sealed his promise with a kiss that would last for eternity.

**_Finis_**


End file.
